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16+ Mature Content

Who Says a Girl Can't Kill? (3)

by izzywidgeon

Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for mature content.

Morning came, and Mars awoke from his nest of pillows on his couch and instinctively looked to the corner where Minnie's futon lay, silk duvet cover unwrinkled and her pillow was untouched. He blinked, and reached blindly for his phone. After a minute or two of fumbling, he reached down for the coffee table, then the floor. 

There it was. He grabbed it, and dropped it. Pizza grease - it smelled like pizza grease. Last night's events started to push through the haze. Will had broken up with him after years of on and off, and he'd binged again. Domino's, why did it have to be Domino's? He lived in Chicago, for Christ's sake. This city was literally pizza Heaven.

Well, at least no one could tell. All the muscle he'd gained hid his episodes pretty well - he hoped. He knew that if his parents saw him now, they would take him right back to treatment.

But Mommy and Daddy's money wasn't enough to save him from relapsing. He got to his feet with a bit of a struggle and shuffled to the bathroom. He forced himself to look in the mirror. His face was puffy and pale, freckles washed out and faded. His eyes were starting to fade to grey all over again.

He looked down at his fingers, smattered with scars, white and jagged. They'd healed, finally.

That was gonna change in about five minutes.

He just..needed to build up the courage.

Tears burned in his ducts as he knelt over the toilet.

A few minutes later, the door opened and in walked Minnie, looking even worse than he did. Her hair stuck up at awkward angles and looked tangled in the back. One of the straps of her dress was held up with a safety pin, and her Keds had been replaced with raggedy bunny slippers. The ears wilted downwards, and were smattered with brown.

"Stomach bug?" She whispered, brows sloping downward.

"Uh..yeah. Real bad this time."

That was their secret phrase. Neither of them wanted to say the b-word.

She sighed and squatted down next to Mars, rubbing his back as another wave of nausea hit.

Where has she been? She..she had a date, right?

She looks like Hell - what if she needed me and I wasn't there?

I'm gonna strangle the guy that hurt her.

Once it was done, she handed him a napkin to wipe his mouth with and helped him to her futon. The sheets were cool and stiff.

"Do you want some tea?" She asked, looking at him through her long lashes.

"You got chamomile?"

"Mm-hmm.." She mused, arms folded over her chest. She turned on her heel and glided to the cupboard above the sink. She opened it and rooted through the boxes that were piled wayward atop one another. She kept her head down and hummed a light tune, but it was clear she was trying not to cry.

"Hey, Min?"

She turned around and lifted her head. Tears flowed easily down her cheeks and plopped to the tile floor.


"Forget the tea. C'mere."

She curled up beside him and cried into his stained t-shirt.

It didn't take words to know that something was wrong.

But what neither of them knew was how much worse things would get. 


DISCLAIMER: Okay, so I've done my research on binge-eating and bullimia, I just hope I managed to portray it right. I noticed (and it's clear) that the percentage of girls/women that have EDs are a lot larger than guys. I just wanted to shed some light on a side of EDs that isn't always represented. 

If you do have an ED, or are struggling, don't be afraid to reach out for help. You are worthy of happiness, and being healthy. 

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These were autumn mornings, the time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world.
— Rabindranath Tagore, The Cabuliwallah